


Bugged by Beetleman

by Suzthesnooze



Category: Beetlejuice (Cartoon 1989), Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: Consensual Non-Consent, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Roleplay, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Roleplay, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, beetlebabes, ceiling sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:42:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27988650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzthesnooze/pseuds/Suzthesnooze
Summary: (Roleplay with Guidebetelgeuse) SEQUEL to Jungle Boogie. Mr. Beetleman comes over to do a little work around the Deetz residence.
Relationships: Beetlejuice & Lydia Deetz, Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz
Comments: 11
Kudos: 40





	Bugged by Beetleman

**Author's Note:**

> Been a while! I won't keep you guys long, I just wanted to say I'm doing well and working on Beej stuff, privately, in less toxic spaces than I was in before. And I appreciate everyone who has reached out to check in on me! This is a private roleplay between Boiler and I we decided you guys may get a kick out of. Illustrations may be coming soon, so keep your eyes peeled. Updates to Get a Life are on the horizon, as well.   
> Thank you Mike for lending me your time to write this puppy! You're the best and the realest. 
> 
> P.s. If you'd like an easier way to access my latest works, reach out via inbox or shoot me an email to join my discord group, Uncle B.J.'s Roudhouse.
> 
> Without further ado, Enjoy!

Stepping over bits and pieces of the Roadhouse that had been scattered across the floor, the comically large mound of beer cans and cigarettes that had piled up, Beetlejuice heaved himself dramatically onto the wreckage of the couch in front of the television. In the span of four days his stubble had grown out into scruff, his sunken eyes desperate and searching, those beady pupils always looking for something to ruin.

It hadn’t always been like this. In fact, the ghost distinctly remembered being overjoyed just last weekend.

But then, Lydia had left the Neitherworld and she hadn’t called him in four days. A modern tragedy.

Beetlejuice had always prided himself on being a ghoul, a man, who didn’t need or rely on anybody. And clearly, the rest of the Neitherworld had repeatedly demonstrated they didn’t need him, so the feeling was mutual. But Lydia Deetz was an outlier. He had never needed anybody alive or dead as much as he needed her – her good advice, her help, her wits and her… well, everything. It was a rotten trick, whatever this little mortal girl had done to him. He didn’t need air, food, or water, but he needed his twitchy witch like burning.

With a sighing, depressed moan Beetlejuice curled up on himself on the couch, an empty beer can crushed in one fist. He’d been slumping around in a bathrobe just to complete the picture of overdrawn pitifulness for the past half day or so. All of his energy had been already spent in the week terrorizing his roommates, Poopsie, and whomever else he could get his greasy red tipped fingers on in fits of lashing out. 

Why hadn’t she called him already? Had he wrecked things completely? Had he misread all the green lights she’d given? Maybe the sex hadn’t been good enough. Maybe he’d gotten a little carried away. 

At first, everything had been cloud-9. He’d gotten the best sex he’d probably had in his entire afterlife, he and his Lyds had supposedly moved their relationship to the next stage of things, sort of. They hadn’t exactly discussed it yet, but… He felt complete. Whole. Happy. Everything just felt exactly as it should be. Not a single thing in his life or afterlife had ever gone this smoothly or felt so right. They’d spent the rest of their trip heading back through the brush flirting, joking. Avoiding that whole section with natives and arrows.Yikes. He’d even returned her on time, since she’d only planned the week in the Neitherworld. So what happened? Where was she?

Poor Jacques and Ginger. They had borne the brunt of Beetlejuice’s Jekyll and Hyde-type switch. They had been so happy for him between the two of them upon his return. It was clear what had happened, neither Lydia nor the ghost could have hidden it if they’d tried. There was far too much touching and Beetlejuice was far too happy for it to have been anything else. The man strutted around like a cock-of-the-walk for a straight twenty four hours or so, but once he realized Lydia wasn’t anywhere near her mirror for days, the guilt and panic had set in.

“When has she ever not wanted to zee you, mon ami? Zut alors, you are like ze peas in ze pods! Go find out what iz wrong. Maybe she needs your help and has not asked!”

That had not occurred to Beetlejuice. Maybe she did need his help! Maybe something was wrong, or awry, or maybe something had happened to her.

“Jacques!” the slovenly corpse picked up his skull and rattled it violently, “You’re a genius!” and just like that, Beetlejuice uncaringly tossed the skull back into the pile of bones and zapped out of the Roadhouse.

“Oh,” moaned the skull, up-side down on his disassembled frame as the ghost blipped out of existence in a small cloud of bat, can, and eyeball, “…does ze genius not even deserve a little help with hees bones? Tch, zis is what I get for trying to be helpful…”

\-------------

  
  


**_DINK DONK!_ **

The door to the Deetzes’ house rang out cheerily in the mid-afternoon. Charles, not wishing to interrupt his wife’s new creative project called out, “I’ll get it!” The door opened to a familiar sight, a one mister Handy Dandy, “Oh! Mister Beetleman! I'm sorry, but I don’t remember calling you.”

Leaning in the doorframe casually in his grimey striped handyman suit, Beetlejuice grinned cheerily. “Courtesy check, Mr. D. I was drivin’ around the neighborhood an' noticed some peculiar activity round your property that seems to be plaguin’ a lotta these old houses this year. An eerie infestation, a baffling blight, yknow... real strange goings on. Thought i'd check in.”

Charles’ eyes squinted in vague concern, “Peculiar activity?” the notes in his voice were rising, and Beetlejuice bristled with glee at the first signs of a sucker, “Plagues? In my house?”

“It's more likely than you'd think! Looky here,” Beetlejuice pulled from his back pocket a flyer, which he held up in front of Charles. A horrific illustration of the most vile looking bugs eating a house, one which by some coincidence resembled the Deetz residence, was depicted all over the front. Labels read  _ 'danger!', 'IT ATE MY BABY', 'Property values dropped', 'one born every minute'. _

Charles Deetz grabbed the paper in two sweaty hands, flummoxed. **_"My word!"_ **

“Y’got termites Chuckie—er, Mister Deetz. An’ not just any kind, neither. The BIG ones. Saw ‘em munchin’ on your side boards out front there. Musta been imported, they’re the worst kind.”

“I-imported?” Charles quickly scanned the flyer, color draining from his face, “But I haven't seen anything like these around, Mr. Beetleman.”

"Sure, sure, that's what they want you to think," Beetlejuice easily squeezed past the distracted and babbling Charles Deetz, slinking his way into the house with the nervous man at his heel. It was always so easy with these schmucks. “Just gotta have an eye for this kind of thing, Chuckie. Comes with the trade. Always better to have a professional take a look...” came the ghoul’s reply, matter of factly. "Here's one now!" Quick as a flash, a pointed red claw zapped an enormous termite straight into the middle of the living-room, setting it munching on the nearest piece of wood furniture. “ Hoo! Looks like they’re the Giant Brazilian Termites after all, look at that whaddaya know! Can I call 'em or _ what? _ ”

He hooked Charles round the shoulder, hauling him around the corner to see the ugly critter for himself. 

Charles squealed, fully blanched as his eyes caught the horrific giant insect. The thing was the size of a small dog, frothing and clicking its’ mandibles wickedly. Beetlejuice may have overdone it a little. Flailing, flyer in hand, the father of the Deetz family was sent off yelling to Delia about giant termites and nightmares. 

“Don't worry, Mr. D! I’ll get ‘em all out of yer house! It’ll cost ya, of course, what with the wrangling and the pesticide and the storage fees--" the ghost called after him down the hall, amused with his own cleverness. What a maroon.

Rubbing his hands together, Beetlejuice chortled slimily to himself. Parents Muy Ocupado for the current moment, it was time to find Lydia. All seemed well in the house. “I’m gonna check around!” he hollered, hoping Delia and Charles would hear him, “You just never know where bugs are gonna turn up.”

The ghoul cackled like a fiend as Charles and Delia blew past him and the doorway. Delia was hauled over one of Charles’s shoulders, and the ghoul raised his eyebrows at the terrorized look on Charles’ face… that was vaguely impressive. He was aware Charles was capable of certain feats when possessed by a heightened sense of fear, but hauling his wife around like that and tearing ass … the doughy man was stronger than he suspected. Maybe he shouldn’t mess with him so much if he’d be at the receiving end of any of that strength?

**_Ha!_ ** Nah. That didn’t sound right. 

The door slammed and his mirth immediately snuffed. Stepping past the frantically munching insect he'd summoned into being, Beetlejuice slunk through the house on his true mission.

"Now where are they hidin’ you, Babes?"

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brushing her bangs away from her face, Lydia climbed the hill towards her house with a satchel and camera in tow. She'd gone out early this morning, as she had the past few mornings, to provide her camera services around her hometown for a bit of cash on her summer break.

College was exactly the place for a mind like Lydia's. She loved her photography classes, thrived seeing the works of others and improving her own, and had wanted to come back for Fall semester with a fresh book of new works to display for the winter showcase. 

She'd made herself busy with projects. Sorting her old work and rearranging the darkroom, collecting pieces to bring back to school with her during the Fall, not to mention developing the new photos she'd taken on her camping trip with Beetlejuice last week--

Oh... Last week.

Lydia felt the bittersweet anxiety tickle up her spine. It wasn't that she hadn't wanted to see him, she justified. It was just a whirlwind and surely they could take some time to just… breathe. It wasn't as though he'd called first, either. Was it considered clingy to call first? The waters of their new relationship were murky, unsure, and Lydia had done well to occupy her mind elsewhere to avoid dwelling on it too long.

Sadly, Peaceful Pines just wasn't very exciting. There were so few ways to distract oneself--

Lydia stopped short of the porch as the front door slammed wide open. Her father, looking positively feral, came rocketing down the front porch steps with her mother unwillingly slung over his shoulder.

  
  


"Why don't you BELIEVE me!? They were HUGE, Delia! Monstrous, horrible, B-Beetleman said they'll eat the house--"

"Charles, my creative flow!" Delia all but wailed. "The artist’s process can't just be paused for a spur of the moment afternoon walk!" Delia Deetz cried, kicking wildly as she was hauled off.

Her parents’ frantic escape blinded him to Lydia's presence and they soon disappeared down the driveway, the hill, and around the bend in the road. Lydia shook her head and continued up the stairs. She could only imagine what set off this nervous attack, but at least she could have a quiet afternoon alone, now.

**_Or call Beej and talk about what happened_ ** , whispered a giddy voice in the back of her brain. 

The week they'd spent in the Neither wilds had been magical, wonderful,  _ perfect _ . Their daily excursions had been full of their usual joking, buddies to the end, but Lydia had been delighted to find how much she liked the new flirtatious tone they'd both taken on when speaking to one another. More than twice the flirting and innuendo had led them to indulge in a sloppy fuck against a neitherworld tree. There was simply no hope of survival for any of the panties she'd brought with her on the trip. Eventually, she'd gone without. Which only drove her ghoulish lover to further madness and inspired more diversions. Beetlejuice’s enthusiasm, it seemed, extended far beyond the torment of the innocent.

And she found she liked her turn playing with this side of him. It was a side she'd only ever seen unleashed upon others. Dark, cruel, unforgiving. By equal measure, she loved the gooey softy he became just on the edge of sleep, too exhausted and sex-laden to move from a tight embrace inside an overly warm tent. 

But that monster she'd finally gotten her hands on, robbed of his usual inhibitions, intrigued and confused and terrified her. 

When she'd kissed him goodbye at the mirror, come back to secure and dreary little Peaceful Pines, looked at her crisp sheets banefully, she'd felt that first prickle of anxiety. Perhaps it was just silly insecurity, perhaps entirely misplaced. Probably. But it didn't quell the voice in her head.

What if, for Beetlejuice, this was just a hiccup in their friendship, or worse: what if the selfish creature had gotten what he wanted from her and now didn't wish to give her the time of day. She knew he'd dated and dropped dozens of women in the time they'd been friends. And who knew how many he'd been with before...

Had they been similarly lured in? Was this a one-off mistake? Surely not. Beetlejuice had made it more than clear to her that she was different. She was special to him.

So, then; why hadn't he called? After all, it had been FOUR DAYS and Lydia hadn't heard or seen heads or tails of Beetle--

A sudden ruckus and jittering sound coming from past the kitchen entryway perked her ears. Eyebrows drawn in concern, Lydia dropped her satchel and camera on the kitchen table and grabbed a cooking pan from where it hung. Wielding it high, the brave girl rounded the corner into the living room. 

"... Hello?" she called out, glancing left and right. "Beetlejuice? If you're trying to scare me it's not going to wo--!!" 

That horrible jitter turned into an inhuman screech from above her. A large insect, easily the size of a small dog or large rat, had dropped from the ceiling and began scuttling toward her. Its pincers clacked noisily at her ankles and a vile green substance drooled from an unseen mouth. 

Lydia gave a shriek of surprise, leaping up onto the sofa to avoid the snapping thing. The nasty creature pursued, but stopped short of crawling up as Lydia swung the pan at it.

So THIS was the reason for her parents' brisk departure! Her father's jumbled ramblings made a bit more sense now... And in her experience, there was only ever one person to blame for bugs of incredible size.

"BEETLEJUICE!"

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


Hmm. Lydia wasn’t in her room, or the darkroom, or the back yard. In fact, as far as Beetlejuice could see, she wasn’t in the house at all. A nagging, deep sourness hit his stomach, and that was the fact that maybe…just maybe, she was out for the day and he had missed her. A masterful con-job for nada, zilch, zero. He couldn’t stay in the house all day like this and if he left without notice the Deetzes’ suspicions would be equally raised. Shit. 

Leaning against the kitchen wall, the ghoul gave a long, sad groan.

It would have been perfect, too! Parents fully gone, the entire house left to the handyman and the object of his affections. He couldn’t have asked for a better set-up! Only pornos ever went this smoothly, in fact. How ironic that the little lady of the house was apparently missing.  **_Groaaan._ ** Beyond the emotional aspect of all this, the ghoul’s body had been in rebellion for four days straight. His libido had gotten a taste of a one miss Lydia Deetz and had refused to loosen its grip after she went home, and had only increased its stranglehold over the past four days. Sexually frustrated in the foulest sense, the moments Beetlejuice hadn’t been wildly destructive were spent holed up thinking of her. God, she had grown up into a feverish sort of wet dream as if constructed especially for him. All the right things in all the right places on just the right Lydia.

The memory of her soft skin, the noises she’d make when he touched her, the way she sweetly, sweetly begged for him to slake himself on her.  _ In her.  _ They had attempted to make up for so much time on that week spent nestled in the Neitherworldian wilderness. Skipped right over the awkward transition from best friends to lovers and never bothered to look back, for better or worse. It was paradise. What he wouldn’t give to be back in that jungle boogie, rutting into Lydia’s sweet, eager body like an animal against one of the purpled trees. He’d spent the past four days in an overly-warm haze replaying it all in his head, relentless and heated, intermingled with the desperate desire to fall asleep against her, to feel the warmth of her loving touch.

After day three, the mess he’d made of his coffin was vile, and the ghoul had realized with annoyance that his hand wasn’t even good enough – the real thing was the only relief he could claim, no more of his own dead flesh slapping against his cock in futility would satisfy him.

Anxiety tore through it all, too, horrified at the potential idea that that was it, the last she’d want to see of him. This was insurmountable when all of him was on fire to have her. Oh, the way she’d call his name when she was in the throes of their lustful trysts…

**_”BEETLEJUICE!”_ **

Hmm, that wasn’t the tone she used, but – 

  1. _Oh!_



Jerking up from his wallow, Beetlejuice scurried towards the sound of Lydia’s yelling. He slid and skidded on one boot into the living-room only to find his poor best friend backed up on the couch, the fat termite creature snapping its mandibles at her threateningly. Lydia was wielding a cooking pan in a great effort to keep it from crawling onto the furniture with her. As relieved as he was to see her, he was not relieved to see her in such a little predicament of his own making.

“Hey!” the ghoul cried, affronted,  _ “That isn’t wood!”  _

The giant termite rounded on the ghoul with a hiss. Beetlejuice squared his stance with a grunt, “Knock it off, bug bait, I eat maggots like you for breakfast.” The horrid, drooling insect made for him angrily and quickly, the frying pan from within Lydia’s hand is juiced into his own. “Alley-oop!”

With a swift maneuver, Beetlejuice scooped the pan right under the aggressive critter and, without much pause, dumped it directly and unapologetically into his mouth. With a horrific slurp and a crunch, the termite was wholly and disgustingly consumed, and the ghoul let go a satisfied, rumbling belch afterwards. “Mmn, eegh, I think that one ate some pine trees or somethin’. I hate it when they taste all minty. Well, that’s the termite problem handled! And lunch,” he brushed his hands off, strutting his way over to Lydia and the couch, “Chuckster really has to be careful about what kinda insects he lets into this place… hope I didn’t bug ya too bad, babes!” he winked, cockily.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Saved by BJ's appetite, Lydia slowly clambered down from the couch and breathed a weighty sigh of relief. The moment the striped figure appeared, her heart had soared and all fear of the scuttling horror had ended. 

God, she was so happy to see him.

"Beej! Wish you could have bugged me a little sooner."

She'd always found the 'Beetleman' disguise utterly endearing. The baggy overalls sported his signature stripes, which never failed to elicit a pleasant reaction in her, and that filthy magenta shirt of his was rolled up at the sleeves. Not that he was particularly muscular, but Lydia couldn't deny she liked the look of him this way. She was well aware of the cliche, a forbidden longing for the handyman.

But then she noticed that her ghoulish lover looked positively hellish, which was truly saying something for BJ; he was in a constant and content state of disheveled and slovenly. The scattered light blonde stubble of his face was a bit more obvious and Lydia wanted to press herself under his scruffy chin and kiss at his flabby neck, bite and whisper against his impish ears, find the zipper to those overalls and have a perfect sequel to their little jungle adventure --

But then it occurred to her, "Beej... did you zap these bugs here?" 

And the pieces started to fit into a puzzle of her own design. 

He hadn't contacted her, hadn't checked in, hadn't come to visit or say goodnight. But here he was, while she was out. "You're pulling one over on my parents? Your little scheme nearly clipped me at the ankles!"

He had SOME goddamn nerve...

After arguably the most pressing episode of their relationship yet, he'd been missing in action. But he had plenty of time and energy to come con her unsuspecting parents while she was out. No doubt he'd expect compensation for ridding them of the pest problem he so obviously caused.

Speaking of pests...

"AND i'm sure you'll be asking for payment, right?" Jerk. The brooding goth huffed, her gaze narrowing at the 'handyman' accusatorially. 

Maybe he felt he'd gotten too close, too involved, didn't want to get anchored down by some ridiculous, petty, clingy, insecure mortal girl--

"But, then, maybe that's just how you treat all of your  _ clients _ , Mr. Beetleman..."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Beetlejuice was by all rights never particularly schooled in the aftermath of something like what he and Lydia had shared together the previous week, that’s obvious. In fact, the ghoul was far more accustomed to being thrown out, ass over teakettle, by indignant lovers. The whores he solicited in times of true degeneracy were just as eager to send him back from whence he came, just like all the rest of the Neitherworld occupants. His name was practically a curse when spat, indignantly, from their lips – there was no love lost between himself and the world he terrorized.

But with Lydia, everything was different. This was new, treading the tender ground of love – he’d always loved her, of course, but this was different. She’d tried to teach him to be truthful, to encourage his good habits, to grow him like a thorny weed into something ever so slightly more civilized. But the man could only change so much, and his feral nature was hard to fully snuff out. He lied to her oftentimes without even realizing he’d done so, and this was one of those times perhaps as the surprised look he threw Lydia was genuine. 

"What?  **_Other clients_ ** ? Babes, I--"

Oh, that was a glare. She was angry! Ohhh if he were only blessed with a bigger capacity to understand half her emotions, this would be easier! Sometimes he knew when he was misbehaving, certainly, but he’d been on good behavior! He let her focus on her living, breathing life after keeping her practically his prisoner for a week in a steamy dank jungle having his way with her as often as he thought he could get away with it. He stared at Lydia dumbly. 

“You gotta believe me, Lyds, I wasn't in this for the money!” he started, trying to point out the obvious, “Well, okay, maybe a little money...”

The cogs in his head were chugging along as hard as they’d go. Why was she angry? Was she happy to see him or not? 

“I hadda make your parents buzz off somehow, an’ this seemed like the best option. I didn’t realize the little critters ate more’n wood. Honest!”

His tone was pleading, hopeful, there was a nervous laugh tacked on at the end. It was time to come clean, at least a little, “I haven’t been…well, I mean,” his hand awkwardly rubbed at his scruff, not meeting her annoyed glare. When did it get that long? Mumbling in a rush he added, “It’s been a ‘couple days, four, ‘t be exact, four days n’ five hours n’ three hundred …twenty minutes, I know yer busy, didn’t wanna… y’know, step on any toes, but I’ve been going a lil stir-crazy,” the turn of phrase is accentuated by his transformation into a striped blender on a very high setting before reappearing as normal, “So I …figured I’d come right through the front door. Didn't know how to start, popping in your mirror. But I wanted to see how you were doin’… since we.... I mean... y'know.”

He drops it, his yellow eyes pleading, "I just didn't know if y'wanted to see me again, babes. This is new to me...  **_Imissedyou."_ ** He blurted out.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Lydia's crossed arms slid to squeeze herself, jaw clenching tight as her best friend's words came pouring out in a mumbled rush. 

This wasn't fair of her. She knew that. The vanity mirror was indeed two-way. Lydia's heart throbbed as he babbled on and on to defend himself against, admittedly, nothing more than her sore ego. Even his transformation to try and get a laugh is stunted, as though worried it'll only make things worse. 

Who exactly did she think this was, anyway? Nothing had changed. Nothing had to change. And she doesn't find any comfort in the softening of his voice or his bearing of his soul. She caught his golden gaze, heard the raspy desperation in his voice, and realized with dread that it could very nearly break her heart if she let him keep going.

"No, Beej," the girl started, visibly deflating. "That was... that was really wrong of me... " 

What a horrible way to greet him after days apart. She'd be lucky if he ever wanted to see her again.

"God I'm sorry." she sputtered dimly, shaking her head at herself as she continued, "I shouldn't have gotten mad. I was worried YOU didn't want to see me. It's dumb, it's so dumb. I don't know, I thought maybe I scared you away, after everything we said. After everything that happened..."

So avoidable. So dumb. She should have just CALLED him.

"And how can I blame you for not coming over sooner if THIS is how I react?"

She tried to laugh, but it was a flat little thing that ended in a shaky inhale. Lydia started slowly forward, stopping within reach of him. Lydia held herself tight, grimacing. She couldn't hold his gaze.

"Of course I wanted to see you. I missed you too. It's all really new to me, too. I'm sorry Beej." But she still can't close the distance, terrified she'd ruined the moment for good. "Could you just... just, maybe, poof for a second? And then reappear and I promise, I promise i'll do it right this time. Okay?"

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes, Beetlejuice was able to drop his persona, but it’s never for anyone but Lydia and only in desperate, strange moments like this one. His tone betrayed the embarrassment of his own stupid feelings, and while the ghoul was generally quick to anger, how could he be angry with her for something that otherwise happened to him so often? 

Seeing her deflate, though, that was worse than any other reaction he could have predicted. Watching her stutter and squirm, her pretty eyes so downcast, wrenched at his miserable striped heart. She had been waiting for him? All this time…? Oh what a dumb, dumb ghost he was. He could have punched himself in the ever-loving throat. Fuck.

“Babes,” he replied, “You'll make a damn good ghost someday, but you're not gonna scare me away now or then. Don't gotta be sorry for nothin'.”

He moved to grab her before she requested he disappear and reappear.

How could he refuse her? If there was anybody he trusted, and anyone he should have trusted this whole time, it should have been her. Eager to make her happy again and erase the awkward missteps of their reunion, the ghoul readily agreed and zapped away as promised.

There’s a beat, and then two beats. With a sudden burst of energy he returns, striped overalls and all, with a cheerful and relieved greeting of “Hey Babes!”, his arms fully outstretched in enthusiastic greeting for her, acquiescing fully as if he had just seen her altogether.

\----------------------------------------------------

Not even a second passed between his energetic reappearance and Lydia bodily throwing herself against him, careless of whether or not it sent him toppling. Happy to toss away the previous reunion in lieu of this, of the kind of love her best friend deserved, the little goth beamed and pressed herself to Beetlejuice as tightly as she could. Lithe arms looped under his armpits and her petite hands curled into the magenta fabric at his back. 

If hearts could burst, especially the hearts of dead, embittered old ghouls, Beetlejuice’s might have. He catches Lydia skillfully with a relieved,  _ “Oof! _ ” - though he almost lost his balance he managed to save it, teetering on those tidy black little boots of his. Oh, yeah. This was much better. 

Her up-turned kitten nose brushed his own hooked beak as her plush lips finally clashed with his wicked mouth. His scruff tickled her cheek, the smell and taste and feel of him shooting straight to her core and sending her shuddering pleasantly in his grasp. There was no surrogate for this feeling, Lydia suspected. No other person living or dead could make her feel this way. And if they could, she didn't want to leave him long enough to find out. 

He was _ it  _ for her. There was nothing to talk about. Hadn’t they been soulmates from day one? They’d always been headed here.

Lydia was a romantic. She had always meant the term in a darker and gloomier sense than most, though, and her brand of romance in the general sense wasn't what most girls her age -- at least in the modern era -- would find particularly tantalizing. What could be more beautiful than being buried with the one you love? Or carrying your husband's heart with you wherever you went? Dead roses, carrion birds, moths and beetles, and ageless, endless love that didn't stop at the grave. She had never thought of herself as someone to feel that fluttery sort of thing described in pop music and magazines. 

They couldn't know, Lydia vaguely thought as she indulged in everything about her ghoulish lover and all the ways he maddened her little body, they couldn't even comprehend the type of things she felt for him. Their fluttery descriptions about love were way off. 

It was deep and dark and primal and Lydia Deetz was in it.

Pulling back just long enough to breathe, Lydia spoke between peppered kisses to his round cheeks, "God, B." his nose, "I couldn't stop thinking about you," his neck beneath the collar of his shirt, "pretty clever, tricking dad into leaving like that." she'd call him sweet, but she knew the ghoul would probably just gag. "What a perfectly wicked, ghastly, slimy, under-handed thing to do. Just for me."

Coming just slightly to her senses, Lydia's hands slid down his back, emboldened by his nearness, to cop an experimental feel of his ass beneath those rough overalls and grinning at his reaction. The look she cast him from beneath her dark lashes was positively sinful.

"You know, It's been a while since Mr. Beetleman made an appearance. I always did like when mom and dad let you have free reign of the house." As a teenager and a blooming adult, that notion had given her some rather naughty ideas. She'd only ever acted upon them alone in her bed at night or in the shower. "How he'd trick them into leaving him alone with their daughter in the house..." She NEVER thought she'd be sharing those fantasies with Beej, but all things considered... "I mean, who knows what kind of person he is. What kinds of things he does when left to his own devices." Lydia breathed, her lips scarce centimeters from his, "And it's been such a long time... Know what I mean?" She stole his line with a devilish little smile of her own.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Greedily, his brain was eager to dump all prior misgivings, and concerns completely in lieu of this. His luck always changed so rapidly, the only thing to do was live in the moment, right? Despite being a suspicious and occasionally sappy soul, he also came along with a laisse faire attitude that was surprisingly adaptable. Especially when it came to things like Lydia’s affection. And what a bundle of affection she was - the ghoul held her up against him easily, the pair of them embracing in a way that was oh so familiar and yet so deliciously new. 

The ghost’s brain nearly shorted out as those plush, soft lips of Lydia’s hit his own. Eyelids drooping, the surge of warm, fuzzy feelings nearly made his knees buckle, and he gripped her tightly in case he might simply float off with her altogether. His feet left the floor, of that he was pretty certain. Tongues met and lashed briefly, the kiss deepening until Lydia finally pulled away for air. Everything thrummed and a wobbly, stupid smile appeared on his lips as she spoke. How was it possible that someone could bring him from such a low to such a high? Only Lydia. Only his Lydia.

His fingers curled around to tangle in her hair affectionately, gazing at her pretty features even as she peppered him in kisses. “I missed y’too Lyds. Real bad. Couldn't get you off my mind--" Those heavenly soft lips were getting real distracting, suddenly, especially the ones travelling down the chubby edge where his chin met his neck. As Lydia complimented his little scheme, he couldn’t help but give her a mischievous, self-satisfied look. 

Ah, so, that’s what she really had thought of it… “Mmmhm,” he practically purred, dopily, his brain swimming as she fed his ego, “Ghost with the Most…disgusting ideas that is. I dunno if you caught it, but yer dad has the ability to perform immense feats ‘o strength when you put a bug up his butt,” remembering the relatively literal nature of their relationship, he quickly added, “Er, well, in his livin’ room. He hauled outta here with Delia right over his shoulder. Speakin’ of,” he let go a low noise as Lydia’s petite hand slid around to cop a feel, delving right inside his overalls to do it, his arms tightened around the girl with a heated grunt. “I think I bought us a couple hours…if I let more of those little critters loose, probably a couple more…” 

Which was the whole point of this, really. Parents were in the way of him getting to Lydia, always, and with the both of them indulging in this new thing, well. He had hoped, his body had hoped, for this sort of scenario perhaps the entire time. It may have been the reason he set it up like this in the first place, and as Lydia purrs her wickedest thoughts almost against his suddenly dry lips in relation to his little getup, there was only one thing to do. The lust that had previously been momentarily stifled for modicum of scheming and rationality flooded his system in an enormous wave, especially at that look.

Up, he hauled Lydia into his arms in a sweeping motion and started with her for the stairs, back up to her bedroom. Sad sap Beetlejuice was gone, replaced by a much more wicked version now that his ego was soothed and his place with Lydia re-assured. “I liked havin’ free reign of yer house too. Meant I could get up to stuff. Anythin’ I wanted, really,” that was true, as he bodily carried the girl straddled across his belly, his fingers gripped into her creamy thighs, “It’s always been a two-fer, trickin’ the hell out of your parents an’ gettin’ t’ worm my way right in here under their noses. You know I love gettin’ away with things. Mr. …mmfh, Beetleman--” unable to resist even as he ran his mouth, sloppily kissing his way down the graceful curves of Lydia’s lithe neck as he hauled her up the landing and down the hallway, “…hasn’t met such a pretty young thing in a long time. Watched her for a while…” red-tipped fingers pulled Lydia’s door open, “…while he was supposed to be werkin’. Waited… ached… ‘specially if she came around close.”

He let the girl down just enough for her feet to touch the floor before hungrily consuming her mouth again. He couldn’t be stopped, it was all consuming, this need. “The things he wanned to do to ‘er though… ‘specially seein’ as he got her alone so often an’ how sweetly she was growin’ up, he coulda had her straddled across his overalls in that cozy lil’ darkroom of hers, ridin’ his cock, teachin’ her wicked things…”

The green tongue had made an appearance, those beady eyes of his shining, and he backed Lydia up against the side of her bed, pressing his superior bulk against her and growled low into her ear, “Jus’ like right now…”

\-------------------------------------------------------

It doesn't take much on Beetlejuice's part to lure a minx out of the gloomy goth. She locked her ankles behind his back, her arms around his neck, and greedily indulged in her ghoul's wicked mauling and muttering. Those cool lips marred the flesh of her neck with slobbery kisses, sucks, bites that left her reeling. But in between he growled confirmations of her previously unspoken fantasies. Solidified them in her mind. When she could -- he was relentless -- Lydia tried to return his passionate devouring, but with every step she was losing ground.

" Mmm... Beej... M-my parents wouldn't have liked it, if they found out," Lydia wet her lips and forced herself to continue in a heated breath, "if they found out what he was doing to their little girl... what she always wanted him to do to her, but couldn't admit it..."

Heat pooled between her thighs and Lydia ground against him as well as she was able, clutched tightly to his front. A breathy moan escaped her as he hauled her lithe form up against her bed. How many times had she thought about this kind of scenario? Shuddering against him -- Beetlejuice, Mr. Beetleman, Betty, whoever the hell he wanted to be -- as he pinned her, hungrily and fiendishly took what he wanted. Bent her over her vanity, tore and defiled those crisp clean sheets on her bed, screw her brains out in the eerie lighting of her dark room.

She's not quite a dirty-talk aficionado, yet, and voicing all this to him isn't something she's developed a knack for. Yet. BJ's seemingly innate ability to say the filthiest things, get her wet with his voice and words alone, it was certain to rub off eventually, if her new spank-bank material were any indication of how he'd already left his impression on her.

Jus' like right now...

"A-and what would he do, if the pretty young thing tried to fight?"Lydia's voice was quieter, very nearly a sheepish whisper. She couldn't know if it was something her best friend would find appealing or if that were too much. After all, she trusted him implicitly. He could and would NEVER hurt her, she knew, but the thought was certainly fun. Just how bad was he? Blush deepening across her face. "If she kicked, tried to shout... but she's just not as BIG as he is, and he makes her feel so dirty and-- Ah!  _ Yeah, there--" _

Her silky thighs clasped tightly to his flanks as BJ's weight pressed her into the side of the bed. Oh, she loved that. In fact it was one of her very favorite things about him, how much bigger he was than her. If he wanted, he could hold her and keep her there, and there was likely nothing she could do about it. You'd just have to take it, her sex-drugged brain whispered tantalizingly. 

Lydia's striking brown eyes caught his yellow and she smiled hesitantly. One of her petite hands snaked between their tightly pressed bodies to cup the crotch of his overalls firmly. Daring.

"What would you do?"

\-------------------------------------------------------

A low, nasal groan escaped from Beetlejuice’s throat, and something dark and devilish, flashed behind those beady yellow eyes. Resist him? Fight him? If there was one thing the ghoul was feverishly eager to do, it was get away with something, especially something he shouldn’t be able to get away with. Lydia was strumming some of his deeper, darker strings in his heart, the ones that always laid under the surface in the guise of something a little more benign. No, he would never hurt her, not really, but what she was asking for, the nastier side of his games… he swallowed hard, once.

His cock, already pushing at the front of those striped overalls, throbbed hard as that sweet, shameful blush rose to Lydia's soft cheeks. While Lydia may not have had finesse at dirty talk, she was awfully good at laying out the sorts of scenarios they both had only played at before – bubbling just under the surface. It was illicit, and forbidden, and nothing on this earth ramped Beetlejuice up more than either one of those things in combination with the beautiful girl he called his best friend. Normally, she was so demure, sweet, thoughtful, all of the sonorous virtues wrapped with a tidy bow and awash in black paint. So when the ghost could ever get her to enjoy some vices, it was as if he’d won an evil little prize to keep greedily in his heart.

This scenario was no exception, and taking her up on her imaginings, he rolled his hips nice and slow, grinding the front of his overalls between her delicious heated thighs as they came to squeeze at his plump hips. Using his superior weight, indeed, he pressed Lydia’s slight form to the mattress tighter as she cried out in surprise. “Dunno,” he mused, those green teeth accentuating the indulgent look on his face, “Handyman only has this afternoon, see, an’ he’s been lustin’ for so long…” the persona is dropped briefly as Lydia’s petite hand snakes between them to grab at him, her hand cupping the hard ridge of his desperately aching arousal and causing a low groan to escape his throat. His hips buck forward, unable to resist the heated desire for more of her touch. He regains his composure, somewhat, enough to growl, “He may just take what he wants despite her strugglin’, specially if she’s gonna do that. Grab her up and bend her tight little body any which way he-- I wanted.”

Yellow eyes glitter, then, and his hands snaked up Lydia’s sides, up, under her cute clothes, desperate to feel the warmth and smooth softness of her skin. “After all, sweetheart, I’m bigger’n you,” he murmured in a low grit into her ear, breath cold and wet, “An’ there’s nobody in this house to hear you scream. I can do aaaannnything I wanted, babes. An’ you know I’m not a patient kinda handy dandy man, either.” His broad hands found purchase at the soft mounds of those breasts that had fixated his brain every night since he left her under her clothes. Every part of Lydia made molten heat surge through his decrepit form. His fingers brushed against her soft, pliant nipples. “But you c’n try n’ stop me… go ‘head: kick, scream, tell me to get off, work those little hips. It’ll only get worse for you, girlie…”

\--------------------------------------------------

Lydia cooed approval at the guttural, heat-inducing groans her playful touches elicit from Beetlejuice. The hard rise against her palm twitched and she gave him a squeeze. Oh, god, she'd spent every night since their separation trying to replicate the shape, the size, the thickness of his cock in her mind. And her imaginings could never compare. He was perfect and Lydia's body trembled at the sensation.

It seemed this was something her lover could agree too... and if his arousal were any indication, he was just as ready to indulge as she. It wasn't necessarily surprising, when she caught that mischievous gleam dance over his features. She'd seen him plot and scheme and play wicked tricks on others thousands of times before...

but he'd never looked at her that way, and the gloomy goth had NEVER seen her friend look quite this frightening. Dark, hungry, insidious: he could make the devil blink, she thought as her mouth went dry.

"But M-mr. Beetleman," she hiccupped, her breathless voice dripping a feigned naïve innocence . Deep brown eyes were wide and frightened beneath dark lashes, but her gaze never left his . She trusted him . "I don't know what you mean. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I--... Ah!"

Lydia was taken off guard as his hips jammed down into her's, the hard ridge beneath rough fabric grinding into her shorts so hard he'd pressed the material of her shorts up between her folds. "Please, please that's... that's so rough! Please, wait--" her whining cut off in a whimper at the bitter sweet pleasure of his clothed cock grinding rough fabric against her soaking cunt, pressing her clit so hard she ached. Lydia didn't have a moment before his hands found their way into her shirt, tugging and plying far more forcefully than he had days ago. 

The broad, rough palms of his hands cupped her pert breasts and Lydia found the wherewithal to squirm just lightly, at first, trying to weasel out from under his weight. But his grip tightened on her little mounds, toyed with her hardened little nipples, and caused her to cry out in earnest.

"Nnh! That's... not there! AHN-!" it's not a full scream, more a startled shout, but she's a fairly competent actress when she wants to be. Beetlejuice's voice growling against her ear silenced the pretty young thing, aside from her gasping breath and a keening moan as he affirmed how very helpless she was against him.

Finding the wherewithal to participate, Lydia lifted her delicate hands up to give his chest a firm shove, arms stiffened to try to hold him away so she could inch her way backwards onto the bed. Try to escape from his crude, roaming touches, the dripping, threatening rasp to his voice, the dangerous glint in his eyes.

Despite the animal instinct to run, something far more primal within her wanted to be caught.

"Get off me! Let go of me! Youre hurting me." It's far less tragic sounding than she intended, her voice inadvertently heated from how utterly wet and curious he'd made her. "Please, i'll do anything you ask..."

\------------------------------------------------

Sweet merciful Satan, this girl was going to do him in – it was going to take all of his mental stamina to keep this tete-a-tete on track without losing it early. How many times had he thought about this sort of thing? Dabbling in it in his mind when Lydia was far too young, the scenario too taboo to express, settling for destroying some part of the house instead of her. But he wait had been worth it - who had given her these ideas? How did they always manage to tap into one another so well?

Oh, right. She grew up with the master of the wicked and perverse, the grossest, most self-indulgent, amoral ghoul this side of the Neitherworld. And what a thorny little black rose she had willowed into…

Lydia had always been a brave little actress when called upon. She’d even managed trick him a number of times using his own games – once, she dressed up as a seductress to silkily bribe him for his short time as Mayor, and that scenario had fueled his late night jerk-off sessions for near months. It wasn’t fair that she didn’t quite grasp what she was doing. Or did she? She knew what he’d fall for every time, always hungry for a lick of sultry flesh, and their current scene was no exception.

Please wait, she’d cried, her hesitation veritably palpable. Lydia squirmed successfully, managing to escape his horny advances just enough to work topside onto her mattress, where she played very well at trying to escape him. She’d even pushed at him, cried for help, but it hardly made a difference. Those predatory yellow eyes stayed focused, lips twisted into a cruel little smile, and Beetlejuice pursued her. He’d never really hurt her, not for a minute, but the idea of overpowering her sweet body, forcing her into surrender to him, knowing it’s what she really wanted, licked flames between his thighs.

“No one to hear y’babes,” the sound of his zipper pulling open was distinct, “Y’can scream as loud as y’want. Mother an’ father are long gone, no one left to protect you from me…” He confirms, pushing at her stiffened arms even as they attempted to keep him off, the bulk of his larger form brutishly muscling past her resistance. He’s quick to get around Lydia’s pushing hands, managing to ruck up her cute top even as he’s fought against. Those rosy nipples against milky pale skin bounce and jiggle tantalizingly as she squirms under his assault. “Anything? That could get li’ girls like you into a lot of trouble little girl, makin’ grown men promises like that…”

Beetlejuice eventually managed to wrest one of Lydia’s slim arms up above her head, grabbing the other that still tries to push him off and dragging it down the girth of his belly, overpowering any pulling and resistance that she may attempt with an insistent grip. The ghoul pushed Lydia’s hand then against his freed, weeping cock, forcibly helping her stroke at it, the sensation making him groan headily. “Y’dunno what sweet young things like you do t’me. I know you’ve wanted this…” he hissed down at his sweet Lydia, his heart aching with affection for her despite all his actions, “…struttin’ ‘round in those shorts, those cute lil dresses… provokin’ me.” His hips were rolling into Lydia’s palm as he spoke, eventually having to stop himself before he made a real mess. “Are you gonna be a good little girl, n’ take your clothes off for me, or am I gonna have to do it for you…?”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lydia inhaled sharply as Beetlejuice tugged her tank top up to expose her chest, ready to go about squirming and struggling. But he captured her arms for his own, that surprising strength holding her in place, and soon only her chest heaved for his view. Licking her lips, Lydia's gaze followed the track of her hand as he dragged it down, down, down over his rounded gut, to the zipper she hadn't heard opened in her play-struggling. 

He hadn't deemed it necessary to wear his bug-printed boxers, it seemed. It sent a bright blush over her face and a little smile to her lips. Horrible minds thought alike, Lydia mused. She'd forgone panties since their trip on the off-chance her lover might show up for a little impromptu rut.

The girl beneath him whimpered as his hardened flesh met the palm of her hand. Shyly, Lydia pumped his flesh just lightly when at first he forces her touch, before her grip on his cock grew more determined, tightened, and she stroked her lover in earnest. Roleplay aside, she couldn't deny how perfect he felt. How badly she'd missed touching him, kissing him. How terribly she wanted him inside--

"Like that, Mr. Beetleman? You're so hard, big, thick. You're a monster." she pleaded, just a hint of playfulness creeping into that pseudo hesitant whisper. " You'd tear me apart..." It seemed helpless was getting harder and harder to maintain through the haze of lust, and whatever devious minx lived inside the stoic girl was forcing its way out. The palm of her hand swept across his bulbous head to slick pre down the length of his cock. "Oh. Is this my fault? I'm soo sorry," she pouted, her fingers toying at his balls each time she came to the base of his cock. "I knew I was teasing you, seeing h-how far you could be pushed. I couldn't help it."

Beetlejuice stopped rolling his hips and Lydia took the cue, grinning that he was already so close. He really had missed her, hadn't he? 

She took the moment's pause to snatch her hand away, go about pulling her top off and over her head. Lydia shot him a sultry look from beneath her dark fringe, leaning back on the bed so he could see.

"Ooh, please don't make me take off my shorts!" the contrary was obvious by the devious glimmer in her dark eye, but poor little Lydia would be mortified if Mr. Beetleman sussed out her lack of panties, how hearing his voice and feeling his touch alone had already soaked the crotch of her pants. "it's so embarrassing. I don't want you to see me Like That. It's so wrong!"

\------------------------------------------------

Beetlejuice let go a low, rattling hiss as Lydia’s petite hand enclosed the hungry girth of his cock. The hiss turned into a moan, and for a moment he too almost dropped their little farce. All he wanted was to lustfully ravage her, to sink himself into the sweet, clenching depths of her responsive, living cunt. This was the first urgency, clouded by many others – his tongue ached to taste her just as much, especially as the scent of her arousal finally seemed to hit him right in the face as he hunched over her. 

Her encouragement was another thing altogether and her honeyed words melted over his brain like the sticky mess he was intent to make out of her. She was good. His little actress… that clever mind of hers always one step ahead despite his best efforts to get the jump on her. He was wild for her, the sweet, shy way she was intimating the threat his cock had become, he was consumed – he wanted to eat her alive. Who was in charge here, anyway? “Y-yeah, like that… Ain’t you something, Miss Deetz?”

The noise she drew from his throat was practically wanton though as those delicate, talented little fingers traversed him so skillfully and played with his nuts. His cock surged needily, pre drooling over her digits in response. 

“Where’d you pick that up I wonder, huh? Dirty little thing…”

Lydia seemed to be a natural and it hardly seemed fair under the circumstances. He swallowed a curse, attempting to gather himself back into some semblance of character, praying desperately that he could hold on without cumming right into her hand and worked up a growl at her. “Ohohoh, not as sorry as yer gonna be… I knew it, pervy little sneak, aint’cha? What would yer parents say if they knew their sweet, innocent young daughter wanned to be taken advantage of by a man almost older’n both of them? I’m far older n’ twice yer age…” 

His breathing was becoming labored, and it’s then that Lydia withdrew her touch. A part of Beetlejuice was exceedingly grateful for it, and another, greedier part was furious that the gnawing, sexual ache was not to be relieved anytime soon. It made him more impatient, throwing him back into the role he’d subscribed to by dressing up as a handyman in the first place. The beautiful, soft mounds of her breasts fully exposed to him only aggravated his condition, followed by the dark, desirous look that Lydia throws him…he’s losing ground fast.

At her protest, he couldn’t hold back any longer. “Shouldn’ta gone around temptin’ me with it then, should you’ve?” he grunted, merciless, as he took over for her and undid the little silvery button, pulling the zipper down with those invasive, red tipped fingers. Upon realizing his sweet, delicate, demure Lydia had nothing at all underneath those shorts of course once he had her fly open, no panties so to speak, the guttural noise he makes is deviously approving. Green striped tongue slimed around his protruding teeth in a nasty display of yearning appetite.

“What’s this…?” he finally manages to grumble, almost panting as he tugged the little shorts down the slim curves of her perfectly shaped legs, inching them provocatively. He shifted with them until he was kneeling between her knees nearly off the side of the bed. “Not even wearin’ underthings, are we babe?” yellow eyes met hers, hungry, hooded under a dark, lustful brow of thick eyebrows. “…naughty, Lydia… you might give men like me all the wrong ideas.  **_Like how much of a little slut you really are…”_ **

Of course, once he’s gotten her shorts to her knees, the temptation is too much to resist and his chubby face pushed forward between those milky, warm thighs in order to drag his long, gluttonous tongue up between the velvety, juice soaked folds of her cunt. Lydia tastes like heaven, and if he could die twice enrobed in the soft skin of her legs, face buried in her pussy he would readily agree to it. He couldn’t help it – he dropped character in order to moan, muffled and needy. Beetlejuice shoved her soft thighs up and back as he lapped at her, eager to drench his scruffy face in her fluids, to make her cry out for him again, to fill the house with her desperate pleas. His long, cool tongue rolled against her swollen clit each time it slithered in and out of her. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Lydia gave a short, sharp cry as those lecherous red-tipped talons of his raked her shorts down over her ass and thighs. Her face blushed bright red, so caught up in the fantasy and the heat and the filthy things Beetlejuice was snarling . She opened her mouth to protest, no, no she wasn't a slut. He had it all wrong--

and then Lydia caught sight of that long, slimy tongue snaking hungrily across his lips. She was sure she'd combust, the desperate heat which throbbed between her legs in want of the relief only he could give her. That place so deep in her core that ached to be filled.

"Mr Beetle--AH!" she felt the cool press of his flabby cheeks against her inner thighs, slicked with her arousal; Lydia arched her back nearly off the bed as that wicked mouth was suddenly on her, petite claws flying to tangle in his wild blonde hair. "Oh, oh god, Beej, yes yes there--"

All attempts at acting thrown out the window, Lydia keened like a woman driven mad, all sensations muted save for his mouth working against her folds, that long slimy tongue rolling against her aching clit, prodding her tight entrance. Her hooded gaze briefly locked on his face, drunkenly taking in the display of her ghoulish man thoroughly devouring her . Her horrible, vile, vicious monster, lapping gluttonously at her velvety cunt when he could very well destroy her.

"I-it's so good..." she couldn't tell who she meant it for. Just that she needed him to know so he wouldn't stop. "Oh my god, your tongue,” Perfectly vile greed dripping from his yellow gaze as her dead lover gripped her legs, pressed deeper between her thighs, the guttural growls and groans he made and the sloppy sound of his tongue against her causing her heated cries to grow into a breathless panting,

“Please, please don't stop--"

It was too much. Lydia's mussed head dropped back, eyes rolled in her head as that blinding edge came rocketing toward her faster than she could have anticipated. She didn't have the air to cry out and her lips parted in a silent scream as her walls clenched, throbbed, her slick walls pressing tight around that incredible tongue of his. Lydia may have lurched and shuddered right out of his grasp had he not been clasping her thighs, intent on tongue fucking her through it. She luxuriates in release, her juices soaking her thighs and Beetlejuice's mouth as her vision begins to return. When she does greedily catch a breath of air, her exhale is a perfectly broken moan, long and quaking. Her grip in his hair loosened and the delicate tips of her fingers fell to stroke his pointed ears.

"Please--" she licked her dry lips, gasping another lungful of air. "Please B, c-come up here..." she tugged uselessly at the straps of his overalls, wishing with everything she had that they were gone. Along with that shirt. " Off. T-....take them off." Lydia pleaded, still too delirious to return to their act. "I want to feel all of you."

\--------------------------------------------------

Oh she _ wanted.  _ She wanted, and wanted, and wanted. And whatever his Lydia wanted, Beetlejuice had always been determined she would have. This was no exception - how beautifully responsive she was, arching for him, writhing under his feverish, hungry attentions. He was lost, himself, too to the heated flesh of her thighs as they clenched around his ears, the delectable taste of her, that warm, silken sex that had tormented him with a driving need since they parted. There was some skill to the motions of his tongue as it worked her, knowing where her sensitive places lay, but altogether this was simply a man who had been given water in a barren desert. 

Lydia’s vocalizations, that pleading, her encouragement, that was going to stay with him for long after this little encounter was over. Beetlejuice was insistent, desperate, then, urging her on with his efforts between her legs, stroking, teasing, sliming that prehensile and limber appendage vigorously until Lydia became breathless and voiceless. Satan’s great tits she was beautiful like this, wracked in pleasure, every part of her straining and quivering for him as he devoured her from the bottom up. The great monstrous thing that had long lived within in his chest, the vile part of him that relished all that was nasty, illicit and obscene purred happily, especially as Lydia tensed up one last time…she couldn’t even cry out, and the noise that Beetlejuice made instead was dark and heated for her, muffled against the succulent juncture of her thighs.

The small flood of sweet nectar that streams past his grimy lips is the most honeyed of rewards besides the peak of Lydia’s orgasm, and although the ghoul was fairly convinced she couldn’t get any sexier or ramp him up any harder or faster, this alone does it. He sucks at her, gently, riding her through it, eager to lap up all of the messy secretions she’d left his greyish purple skin slick with. Watching her twist up and release for him in such a way causes that molten heat thrumming between his own thighs to near interminable levels of throbbing insistence, and when his heavenly lover finally settles into stroking his ears and catching her breath, he is almost relieved not to have spilled himself into the rug beneath his knees.

That is, until Lydia lets loose that moan. Oh, his lady wasn’t done yet. Beetlejuice wasn’t sure what he had done karmatically to deserve this, a woman so attuned to his lusts, but he was praising every single one he knew as she insisted he take her. “Lonely up there, huh Babes?” he was finally able to mutter, throat thick with grit from animalistic need, almost breathless, “Don’t you worry, Daddy’s comin’…” She didn’t need to ask twice. The overalls and shirt came off in a jumble of fabric, his trembling hands yanking and pulling, the striped handyman gear barely making it to his ankles. Roughly, he managed to kick them from him in a last ditch effort as the rest of him crawled forward atop Lydia. She was an addiction, turning the ghoul into a brutish creature driven by horny need alone as his fat gut settled atop her slim midsection, the weight of his hips settling down against her as he worked her into straddling his pear shaped hips. Just the heat radiating from her already tortured cunt was enough to drive Beetlejuice wild, and the ghoul gazed down at the flushed, resplendent face of the girl underneath him as he lined up beneath her.

“Y’have no idea…” he swallowed, yellow eyes gazing down at her before squeezing closed as he pushed the fat head of his prick at Lydia’s slick, eager entrance, nudging between her plump, drenched netherlips, “…how many nights I spent just thinkin’ about you, wantin’ t’fuck you…over n’ over…” Lydia’s pussy was so well lubricated it only took a small thrust to spread into her, stretching her around him, and the noise the ghoul made as those inner walls squeezed to the cool flesh of his cock was positively vile. He isn’t in the mood to be patient with her, not this time, he can’t… he thrusts firmly forward and with a surprised, loud grunt he suddenly and deeply bottoms out within her. Beetlejuice’s weighty hips hit Lydia’s thighs with a wet, loud  _ SWACK _ , the tip of his lurching dick shoving almost as deeply as it could manage to go. He paused for a moment like that, trying to steel himself, before he began to suddenly thrust in earnest, no build up, just rutting in driving, heavy motions of his hips within her. “Fuck, yeah, look how good yer takin' it…” he grunts, holding her in place for each cruel impact, “Oh fuck L…Lyds…”

\------------------------------------------------------

He's left her such a sopping mess, mercifully, and his cock faces little resistance as it pressed against her plump folks to drive home, hard and deep. Lydia's jaw dropped open with a heated gasp as that bulbous head kissed her very core, slicking her further with his pre. The ache of being stretched open was staunched by the thrill of his impatient thrusts. The cool flesh of his cock sinking into and mingling with her intense heat sent a static shiver up Lydia' spine. A debauched groan rattled past her swollen lips when Beetlejuice's hips start into a heavy, punishing pattern against her, the force crushing her into the bed and would have slid her forward if not for his grip. She keened, doing her best to spread her legs wide 'round his hips, wrapping them up over his ass to give him the room he demanded with each powerful thrust. She thrilled at the lewd sound of his heavy balls slapping against her ass, the monstrous grunts and groans that rumbled from his chest--

"Ah, fuck... FUCK!" Lydia wasn't usually one to curse, but as always her devil of a lover brought out the best in her. 

The most wonderful things pour past his cruel lips, telling her how badly he'd longed for her, all the while rutting brutishly into her without regard for her ability to keep up. It wasn't like their first time... nor many of their other times on the camping trip. This was a wet, raw, sloppy fuck, and for all her fantasizing about the handyman forcing himself on her, it turned out her lover was more than capable of accommodating her craving to be taken by a monster.

She couldn't beat him... so she might as well join, as the saying went.

His fevered, throaty grunts inspired sounds she wasn't even sure she could make, a sudden cry like a hellcat's, tortured and heated as her tom ravaged and ruined, escaping Lydia as her little claws snapped up under his stiff arms to claw across his shoulder blades, rake down the soft cadaverous flesh of his sides. "Don't stop, fuck me, just like that B oh my god FUCK yes--!" Arching up as much as she was able, she found his lips in the midst of his wild fucking to kiss, suck, bite. Lydia rolled her hips down to meet him, their hips clapping loudly and lewdly.

"Beetlejuice--" she gasped, "Fuuck ,yes B, AH! That's how I want it... you're so deep, GOD yes fuck me--"

A sound downstairs like the front porch door immediately buttoned her lips and Lydia clung to her ghoulish lover, digging her little claws into his shoulders. Oh, god, no please not now not now, but they couldn't let her parents see or hear. Barely capable of rational thought, she only clung to him and continued rolling her hips against his, hissed against his ear,

"Don't you DARE stop."

\------------------------------------------------

There was nothing like this, no. In all of his six hundred years, in all of his schemes and experiences, nothing prepared him for how this one living girl was going to utterly wreck him. How much he wanted her, how much of a fool he’d make of himself to please her from the moment they met. Lydia wasn’t like any other living person he’d ever met – even younger, her tender years, she easily and deftly took her place by his side without question and without fear, as if she always had one foot stepped over the breach between life and death. Beetlejuice was one of the worst, most vile poltergeists to hit the Neitherworld (one whom his fellow dead would gladly get rid of in a heartbeat had they a choice) and Lydia Deetz had him wrapped firmly around her pinky in less than a week. 

If he was any less of a perfect monster, he might have had more hesitation in his gluttonous taking of the girl he watched grow like a weed year after year. Instead, being so close to her, so intertwined with her, only made his desire for her grow stronger until it had reached this feverish pitch in which they were currently engaged. Fortunately for him Lydia seemed to have a strange attraction to monsters, especially ones that seemed intent on throwing monkey wrenches into her life over and over. Obviously, this was no exception. Neither one of them had planned past this explosion of lust, very clearly – they had both surmounted other chaotic experiences, right? This seemed only natural…

Besides which, Lydia had no right to feel so fucking perfect around his dick. Her body was so warm, clenching so responsively, pulling and milking him every time his hips pumped against her. Everything his sweet girl turned vixen under his assault did only spurred him on and added fuel to his raging fire. Her cursing for him was just the beginning, the noises she made afterwards, her incomparable begging and encouragement, made his head swim in a haze of feverish lust.

Beetlejuice was drowning, lost to her, this siren that called for him, that rent his skin with her claws. Fuck that felt good, the prickly fire of pain as she marked his dead flesh mercilessly, and she promptly claimed his lips in a way that made him mad. Beetlejuice adored kissing but very rarely received said to the utter beetle-filled garbage fire that was the general condition of his mouth and the musky malodorous pungency that surrounded him. Lydia never seemed to mind, and certainly she was proving it now as her neat, straight little teeth sank into his lips and pulled at them. Interrupted, heated noises were levelled into her attentions and the ghoul’s tongue met with hers, nearly overwhelming her mouth sloppily, the pair plundering each other relentlessly. 

Desperately he went at her, driving as deep as he could angle, especially as Lydia’s slim back lifted from the mattress towards him. His ruddily tipped fingers curled into the wild mess of inky hair that spread out beneath her sexy features, his uneven teeth gritting tightly.

Yellow eyes popped wide as Beetlejuice, too, heard the noise of the door downstairs. At first, he was too close to the edge to acknowledge the sound, but as Lydia suddenly tensed and quieted underneath him it registered fully. NO. No no no nooooo. He’d juice them to oblivion before he’d let them find them like this! Wild imaginings were clearly steamrolling through his brain of what to do to ensure his prize would not be wrenched from him before completion. The prickles of Lydia’s nails were distracting at minimum, and though his pace had slowed her firm whispered directive fully brings him back ‘round to the present moment. The noise he makes in exchange is perfectly monstrous and low, a sinful, wanton noise of pleasure. 

He can hear the creak of each step as her parents ascend from downstairs. Any hope Beetlejuice had had that they my mind their damn business and let the vile thing have his way vanished as the sound of voices closed on Lydia’s bedroom door.

“Hang on, kid.” 

In an instant, he had Lydia’s back pressed to the high ceiling, still buried to his root in her as the door opened far below.

“I swear, I thought she was home!” Charles Deetz fretted, looking around the seemingly empty bedroom. “It’s not safe with those things crawling around!”

Grinning to himself, the yellow-eyed fiend pressed a hand over Lydia’s mouth and gave an experimental pump of his hips. He leaned in close to hiss in her ear, barely a breath, “Keep quiet… not done with you.”

\------------------------------------------

Lydia’s center of gravity had shifted completely and she’d all but held back a shriek as they rocketed towards the ceiling. 

“I told you, she went out to do a shoot for the Kennings’ baby shower today.” Delia tsked from the doorway, arms crossed. "Charles,  _ really _ ! If you wanted to spend time with me, you could have just asked.” she complained, but it seemed light-hearted at best, "But it WAS unexpected…”

Her eyes widened, terrified, Lydia silently implored Beetlejuice for a solution. She could say his name, try to send them to the Neitherworld--

His hand graciously stifled the unexpected moan he drags past her lips as he jammed his hips into her’s, skewering her mercilessly. Her eyelids flutter closed as he practically growls against her ear, cool and wet. Legs trembling, she has little choice but to wrap herself around the one thing keeping her pinned to the ceiling and take it.

“I could have sworn I saw her come up the drive… don’t you remember seeing her? Just as we were leaving.” 

“Hm, no, but I do remember somebody interrupting my art by throwing me over his shoulder. You haven't carried me like this since highschool, Charles. Remember?”

Beetlejuice grinned at Lydia’s surrender and went to work. A quiet whine escaped past her nose as he rutted sloppily against her, “Quiet baby,” grinding back and forth, stretching her tight walls with each slow roll of his hips, “dirty little girl,” planting wet kisses to her ear, “What would they say?”

Lydia’s eyes widened frantically, the edge of orgasm threatening once again at the blasphemous words barely spoken. All she could do was cling tightly to her tormentor, nod her answers, choke on every sound that could cause her parents to look up. Oh, oh god please don’t look up--

“She’s out, like I told you.” Delia sighed, entering the room to drag him back out. “Just the two of us. And you’ve got my  _ complete _ attention now.” She cooed, toying at his sweater vest. 

“I was just so sure she… did you hear something?”

Beetlejuice was too lost in the perversion of it all to hear, eyes rolling back as he took Lydia without a care against the plaster ceiling. She was too good to him, really. The hard pace resumed, though the need for silence is abrupt and mandatory, Beetlejuice ducked his head against Lydia’s sweaty neck in order to muffle the sounds he couldn’t help making. He hunched further, mating with her fervently like some sort of rotten beast stealing her from under watchful eyes of those who would prevent it. The illicit nature of it alone was enough - in a helpless whimper he chokes out under his breath against her neck, “I'm gonna blow babes--”

Lydia’s already jolting and shaking, helplessly lost to her own silent orgasm as Beetlejuice surges into her a final time and stays, drawn up tighter than a spring, and releases deep enough inside to flood her deepest parts, fluttering walls practically wringing him dry. They freeze there, sweaty and silent, neither concerned anymore with their precarious position. Far too engrossed in the tight press of one another to give one damn. 

“Charles, don’t be boring.” He clamped his mouth immediately and followed obediently as the red-head pulled him through the door. “You asked for my attention, Mister, now you’re in for it. Bedroom.”

“But Delia the bugs--”

“ **_Now_ ** or never, Charles.”

Charles Deetz, no fool, hurried after his wife and shut Lydia's door at his heels. 

A beat passed in silence, then another, just until the door down the long hallway shut, before Beetlejuice (followed immediately by Lydia) came crashing down onto the bed. They both yelped on impact, a tangled mess of sweaty limbs, and took a moment to come back to their senses. Panting, Lydia clambered to rest her chin on his chest, glowering in the direction of the door. 

"Ugh. They're so gross..." She glanced up to see her dirty accomplice cock an eyebrow at her and the two broke into breathless laughter. Beetlejuice gathered her up into his arms and pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead.

"You're a dirty birdy, miss Deetz. Getting railed on the ceiling by yer dead handyman? Even tabloids would call you nuts."

Lydia smiled, curling closer to his chest. "Yeah, well, jealousy is a cruel mistress." She toyed at his light spattering of blonde chest hair, abashedly keeping her eyes fixed down and away. "I uh... I really liked the dirty talk about Mr. Beetleman, Beej."

"Yeah?" Beetlejuice inquired, receiving only a quick nod in answer. "Figured so."

"Is that okay with you? That I want that? It doesn't... mess anything up?"

Beetlejuice laughed in earnest, tickling her ribs to try and pull her from her little self conscious gloom. "Pfft, Babes, I'll do just about anything once. S'long as I get you, hell, you could do just about damn near anything with me." Lydia still seemed hesitant, but relaxed into him a bit. Bad with sincerity though he was, talking shop about kinks was a breeze, so he managed to go on. "I just hope y'know, I never would'a done nothing like that to you, kid. Not for real... not back then, not now. Not unless you were asking me like that. wouldn't ever do anything to hurt you on purpose."

"I know," Lydia piped up softly. She cleared her throat, emboldened, "I know. I think... that's why I want that? With you? It's... safe, to ask for... it. Ask for the things I want. I know you take it easy around me, sometimes. I think you always have because I was a kid." 

Beetlejuice rolled over on top of her, trapped her under his weight, resting both elbows on either side of Lydia's hips. He rested his chin in his hands.

"Ain't no kid anymore, babes. Look, here's a deal: You signed up for the whole package. Good, bad, ugly and downright disgusting. Me? I've got the easy end of this thing." He kissed her soft belly, causing her to squirm and laugh. "Hey, hold still! i'm trying to be serious here, Lyds, quit yer laughing. Anyway, if you want me to get real nasty? You just ask. Want me to chase the parents off? My wish is your command..." 

Lydia watched him draw in close to her belly, grinning threateningly up at her. He continued with a wicked tone,

"But, just know, if you're askin' for the worst, you better be ready to take--"

"Don't you dare!"

"Every--"

"BEEJ!"

"Blow."

Beetlejuice blew a merciless raspberry into her flesh, pinning the thrashing girl hard to prevent her escaping his foul, tormenting mouth. Lydia's laughter turned pained and frantic, begging him between breaths to stop, stop, she couldn't breathe--

He finally relented and let her up, laughing at the fiery look in her eyes. "Oooh, come on, whatcha got for me babes?" 

Lydia threw herself at him and they toppled off the bedside, laughing, right into a mind blowing second round. 

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End file.
